


Going through the Motions

by LightBloom



Category: Final Fantasy XIII
Genre: Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-17 04:44:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4652775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightBloom/pseuds/LightBloom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As they approach Oerba and their undeniable fate back on Cocoon, Hope starts to notice little quirks about his group. The silence is getting to him and all he wants to know is how to make it stop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Going through the Motions

They were just going through the motions of their days at one point, Hope realized, watching Lightning wash the dirt and blood off her coat and cape. He’d recognized the behavior a while ago, but he didn’t give it any thought until he’d seen her strip off her coat in front of him without warning. Shocked, he jumped back a foot, face flushed as he started crawling away. He relaxed a bit though, when he noticed she kept her midriff turtleneck on, dropping the coat in the water and scrubbing its fabric roughly against a rock. Frowning, Hope let his weapon drop, sliding down the small hill next to her and leaning closer to watch. She didn’t acknowledge his presence, too focused on her robotic continuous actions.

The pressure of her fingers was rough and he could tell that the water was cold by the small goose bumps trailing up her arm. The cape and coat where almost spotless now; only she see the imperfections. Alarmed by how blue the tips of her fingers were turning, Hope reached out and shook her. “Light!”

She pulled up the clothing, straining the water out of its fabric before brushing past Hope, her bare feet crossing the riverbed of jagged rocks like it was sand. He watched as she placed the coat and cape on a large boulder to dry. Pulling out her Gunblade, she sat down on the ground and began inspecting it for imperfections. Stung, Hope stomped out of the riverbed, his shoes all wet from running in to shake her. Marching past her without a word, he walked back towards the camp.

Hope watched Lightning until she stood up and deemed that their break was over. She had spent the entire time scrubbing furiously at her blade; her leg pouch opened beside her with multiple types of disarming tools and polishes that only she knew how to use. Once that was done with, she’d just about attacked everyone for not moving quickly enough. That was in Vallis Media, along a small brook and ongoing stream. He hadn’t taken much thought to it though; he was too worn out from the fight with Alexander to think about it.

He noticed it happening again on the Archylte Steppe, in the Font of Namva where the chocobo’s lived, but this time it was Sazh. He’d been running from Fang and Vanille, who’d taken advantage of his surprise at the giant birds and shoved him into a deep puddle. After establishing his distaste towards both of them, he stormed off towards the more mature part of the group. Tearing off his own shoes and tossing them where the sun could dry them, Hope took a seat next to Sazh. The older man was watching the baby chocobo flit around the Pulsian birds, smiling as it would take a liking from one chocobo to another. To Sazh, Hope was just another part of the log until the teen nudged him out of his stupor.

He kept noticing these small habits that they each had. Snow’s was obvious; he starred at Serah’s crystal tear almost everywhere they went, and while they rested in Mah'habara, he seemed to stare at it for hours. If Lightning didn’t find a stream to wash her jacket, she’d spend her time polishing her gunblade. Sazh would watch play with the baby chocobo and watch it flit around with a distant look in his eyes.  Even Vanille would do something, minor, what with the general wishing pose that she took or sometimes even sitting somewhere the breeze would hit the hardest and breathe in every scent she could possibly take in. Fang was less subtle; she would use her spare time to examine her weapon, check up on supplies or hunt. If Fang was here, Vanille would hunt.

Lightning would go from time to time, when washing or polishing just wasn’t enough to settle her nerves. Sometimes, Hope would go with her, if he was lucky. Other times though, he just stuck around and watched the other pass time, laughing at Fang’s ability to fluster everyone in the group—he learned the hard way not to laugh at her directly. He still had bruises from his “practice sparring session” with her.

After the encounter with Hecatoncheir, and reaching Sulyya Springs, Hope started realizing that these small habits were increasing. Lightning was unconsciously looking for more chores, taking up later night watches and scolding him into washing his clothes for the first time since the Steppe (it wasn’t his fault that there wasn’t any running water in the caves). Snow would spend just a little longer talking to the crystal (he didn’t think anyone knew about it) and on occasions, Vanille would run off and hide on her own. By the time they’d gotten to the Tower, the Sazh had stopped talking all together, watching Vanille out of the corner of his eye in worry when they all caught a glimpse of what was left of Oerba. When they finally reached Oerba, the silence was looming over them, an uncomfora

Fang turned grim, a little more irritable since then, ten times more likely to start a fight. It surprised him when she sat next to him inside her old home, ignoring the fact that the others were either out searching for food or resting in one of the multiple beds available. “You aren’t gonna take a break?”

“My idea of a break is different from yours Fang,” he answered seamlessly, mindlessly playing with Bhakti as he stared out the window. “I don’t go hunting every hour of my free time.”

“Well we can’t just carry enough for six people,” she began surly, frowning in displeasure at his less than playful personality. “Someone’s gotta do the hunting and cooking and it sure as hell ain’t gonna be Lightning grilling over a campfire.”

He smiled vaguely at the memory; Snow wasn’t kidding when he said only one Farron sister was good at cooking and it wasn’t Lightning. It wasn’t the worse meal he’d ever eaten, but it definitely wasn’t the most pleasant either. Speaking of which…

“Where is she anyways; sleeping?”

Fang snorted. “In your dreams kid, you know she doesn’t sleep during the day. She’s out doing the same thing she always does; keeping watch while polishing her weapon and washing her clothes. You should give her yours sometime. I bet she’d get a kick out of it.”

“Why does she do that?”

“Do what, the same thing every time?”

“Yes,” He insisted, glancing back at Sazh in the back room, who was snoozing away what was most likely going to be a short break. “They all do the same thing; even you. It’s driving me crazy, especially now. No one’s saying anything and I know we aren’t about to go on vacation but it feels weird to not talk about it.”

“Haven’t you ever had a bad habit you couldn’t break?”

“I doubt that Snow spent his time on Cocoon staring at Serah while she cried.”

“He’s a bit of an idiot though; I wouldn’t put it past him to stare at her in public like the oaf he is.”

Hope started pushing back his chair, ready to leave. Laughing, Fang pulled him back down. “I’m just kidding. Seriously though, you’ve never heard of going through the motions of the day?”

“You mean just going through the same routine every day?”

“Yep.”

“We’re not living some boring suburban life though, we’re constantly in danger of getting killed by some giant monster or failing our mission. Why does that matter?”

“We need to stay sane somehow, don’t we?” She answered simply. “Can’t take expect us to do everything, right? We’re only human. Some of us need something to hold onto, something to remind us we aren’t completely at their mercy. It’s helluva lot easier than talking about what we’re about to do.”

Hope shook his head furiously, looking out the window. Lightning was there alright, donning her black undershorts and long coat as she washed the skirt. Her gunblade lay next to her, completely polished. “Lightning…wouldn’t need something like that.”

“She lost her sister mate, I wouldn’t put it past her to need something to take her mind off it.” Fang muttered, taking up her weapon and rising out of her seat. “The focus is what’s keeping us alive Hope; the little things like polishing a weapon or hunting are what’s keeping us sane.”

“What about me then?” He insisted, hesitant to hear her answer. “What’s my habit?”

She grinned. “Getting your ass kicked by me.”

**Author's Note:**

> You know how sometimes you start cleaning and you find an old writing and just sort of remember everything about how you started and all that? This is my clean-read-don't finish cleaning fic. Whoops.


End file.
